Hold Me Tight
by TigerxFox
Summary: Zoro pretends he's asleep so he can cuddle with Sanji. Sanji pretends he doesn't notice. (Written with HikariMat)
1. Sanji

For some, the sentence "if we fight we'll wake up loneley" could be true. For them, it was the complete opposite: Sanji knew if he teased the swordsman just right they would end up fighting, and fighting generally led to them fucking each other's brains out and waking up together. And the violent and desperate sex after the fights was the best kind of sex. He swore it was just the part of the sex that interested him, as the big pervert he was. But if that were the case, he wouldn't always be so loving with the seaweed. He would rise from the bed. He wouldn't remain there so romantically close to Zoro even after his inebriated state had faded and his post-sex cigarette turned into a cold butt kneaded in the wood of the Crow's Nest floor.

He stared at the ground and hoped Franky wouldn't notice the macula on his precious ship. He wanted to smoke another one and moved very carefully on the retractable single bed, though he didn't really need to since something so subtle wouldn't wake the idiot anyway. Without getting up from the bed, he felt the ground with his free arm in the dark looking for an equally dark jacket. Since the only illumination in the room was a waning moon, he couldn't see much, but he knew that he would definitely have to iron his clothes, perhaps even mend them, in the morning. They had gotten too carried away today. He found his lighter and the pack of cigarettes and lit one. He leaned back on the pillow and filled his lung with that sweet nicotine. He had to feed his addiction and calm his nerves before bed, so he would avoid bad dreams. Although he certainly didn't want to avoid Zoro's reaction when such nightmares happened. When the Neanderthal finally stopped pretending to be asleep and hugged him wholeheartedly, his warm hand making circular motions affectionately on his lower back. No embarrassment, completely transparent and sincere. As if comforting him was more important than pretending. Sanji's lips formed a passionate smile as they held the venomous cylinder.

He hadn't even smoked half of it when he heard the marimo that had once snored quietly and began to cough. He'd been careful to blow the smoke away, but the wind must've been bringing it back, and it didn't help much that the swordsman slept with his mouth wide open and breathed through it. Sanji reluctantly ducked and stubbed out the cigarette beside the previous stain on the wood. He hated to leave a cigarette half smoked, but he couldn't get out of bed. I mean, he could... but his hand was stuck. Comfortably stuck tied to another calloused and hot one. Zoro had put it there, accidentally obviously, after turning his back to him to sleep immediately after sex, as he always did. Sanji couldn't get out of bed because he would leave Zoro's hand behind.

How sappy he had become.


	2. Zoro

Zoro was never the kind of guy who liked physical contact, so sleeping with someone stuck on his back was annoying. He _hated_ it.

Dating Sanji, an extremely affectionate guy, was definitely not the best choice, considering that he loathed all that exaggerated love. It was embarrassing, something he could never deal with.

At the beginning of their relationship, that treatment was stifling. Why did the cook always have to be so caring? Why after sex he couldn't just get up and leave, leaving Zoro alone with his thoughts? And why didn't Zoro himself get up and leave? It wasn't as if he felt any need for that warmth surrounding him, those arms welcoming him, that strong hand holding his own, the calm breathing near the back of his neck... All that was pathetic and made people weak, Zoro was anything, but weak.

He just didn't know when he started pretending to be sleeping just to be cuddled by him.

Sometimes, they weren't even together before bedtime, hadn't even had sex, and Sanji would appear in the crow's nest. The moment he felt him approach, Zoro pretended to be asleep because he was too proud to ask for that man's arms, but he also wanted to have his boyfriend's warmth.

The blond's addiction often made him cough when he didn't expect to, that damn smelly cigarette bothered him and attracted him at the same time. Sometimes it made him feel afraid. Zoro should never be afraid, but at times he feared in silence. Every time the cook's hand moved away from his body to search for his addiction, there was a fear of losing him for one night, a stupid, pointless fear, because Sanji always returned right back to him seconds later.

There were nights when his man had begun to tremble in his sleep, having nightmares or memories of a painful childhood, and it was Zoro's turn to comfort him. He knew of the difficult past Sanji had to endure, of the cruelties done by his brothers and by the man who put him in this world, of hunger and pain... Even if he knew, he could never imagine how painful it had been for his boyfriend and the most he could do in moments when bad remembrances came back to him was to hold his precious as tight as possible and tell him everything was fine, that it was all in the past, that he was there and wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, even though he knew that Sanji was strong enough to protect himself. Zoro had a protective instinct and wanted to protect who he loved most, it wasn't a crime.

It didn't take long for the damn smoker to notice that, in fact, he always pretended to be asleep. Still, every day, Sanji would return to there and spoon him from behind, snuggling him closer, saying words that Zoro would always _hate_, just as he _hated_ that man.

How he started to love that.


End file.
